


Whenever The End

by rosymamacita



Series: The Apocalypse Part 2 [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, First Kiss, Polis, Season/Series 04, Spoilers, The Conclave, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 15:16:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10811592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosymamacita/pseuds/rosymamacita
Summary: It's the night before the conclave and the end of the world is nigh. Clarke and Bellamy needs to sleep and Clarke convinces him to share her bed. But waking up in his arms crosses the distance they've kept between them.





	Whenever The End

**Author's Note:**

> again it took me all week to get this out. but i managed before the episode that will joss it. this does not count for my Alpha Male Bellarke fic celebration. I just needed to get it out before I started those. Who knows about typos, seriously. Hope it's not too rough.

It had been a long night. Clarke sighed and stretched her back.

Bellamy saw her and bumped her with his shoulder. “You should get some rest. It’s going to be an even longer day tomorrow.”

She sighed even more heavily. “The conclave.”

He pressed his lips together in a tense line and they shared their feelings of dread. “They’ve got Octavia isolated with the other candidates because they’re afraid we’re going to plan some brilliant skaikru maneuver and cheat them out of their battle.”

Clarke snickered at his grin and then yawned. She covered her mouth. “Sorry.”

He shook his head. “No seriously. Get some sleep.”

She looked up at him. “What about you? You going to keep watch?” 

He gave his own heavy sigh. “No, I’ll go bunk with the rest of our delinquents. Gotta keep them in order. They’re camping in that meeting hall downstairs.”

That wasn’t right. Clarke frowned and grunted.

“What?”

“Don’t camp out with the kids. You need to rest, not take care of everyone else.”

“Sure,” he half laughed.

She raised her chin. The stubborn goat. “Sorry. You need to rest. You’re coming with me.”

“You’re not the boss of me.” He cocked his eyebrow at her. “Where are you taking me?”

“I have a room. I have a big bed.”

“You want me to sleep in your room?” He didn’t mention the bed. “The same room as the last time you were here?”

“Different room. Smaller, but I still have a bed with room for two.” He drew his eyebrows down into a frown. “Roan wants to keep an eye on me. Uneasy alliances.”

“Away from everyone else? I don’t like that.”

Suddenly she knew how to get him to rest, away from all his responsibilities with Arkadia. “Hmm,” she hummed. “No guards, either. Just Azgeda.”

“Fuck Clarke. You can’t…” he combed his fingers through his hair, clearly distressed. “How many times are they going to keep you captive? I’m not letting you stay there alone.”

Clarke ducked her head so he wouldn’t see her grin. “Then come on. I’m so tired.”

“Me too,” he sighed, and he let her lead him up to her room. When she closed the door behind them, she felt nerves shoot through her to be alone with him in her room. She shouldn’t be nervous. He was her partner. He was Bellamy. 

She looked over at him and he seemed just as tense as she was. He went to the window and looked out. She followed, stood next to him. “Tomorrow it will all be decided. And we just have to wait. And watch.” She could feel the anxiety coming off of him in waves.

“She’ll be okay, Bellamy.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I believe it. Come on. We need to get some rest.” She reached out and took his hand. His eyes shot up to meet hers. She saw him swallow. She gave a little tug on his hand as she stepped back. He didn’t move. “Sleep, Bellamy. We need sleep.”

He looked down and nodded, following her to her bed. She dropped his hand to take her jacket off. Then sat on the bed to unlace her boots and set them on the floor. He watched her. Unmoving. 

Clarke smiled at him sadly. Then she lay down on her side, sliding her clothed legs beneath the covers. 

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep, Clarke.”

“Me either but we should try.”

He didn’t answer. He just took off his jacket and hung it next to hers, unbuckled his holster, setting it down carefully and sat on his side of the bed. She didn’t roll over to look, but heard the thump of his boots on the floor and then the bed tilt as he lay down next to her. 

He let out a big sigh. “I’ll probably be tossing and turning all night.”

“Me too,” she half laughed. “Good night, Bellamy.”

“Good night, Clarke.”

She blew out the candle and closed her eyes.

***

Warm.

Safe.

She came to wakefulness not wanting to leave her dream. Happy.

Her eyes fluttered open. 

Bellamy.

It wasn’t a dream. The dawn was just beginning to lighten the horizon. She slept with her head on his shoulder, fully pressed up against his side, his arm curled around her, holding her there. Their legs were tangled together. His shirt was rucked up and her hand lay on his bare stomach. She could feel him breathing. Calmly. Peacefully. 

“Oh,” she breathed, not really willing to move. Instead she let herself enjoy it. This close she could see the spray of his freckles on his cheeks, and the fan of black lashes that rested there. The little scar above his lip that had always been there as long as she’d known him. She had to smile. She never got to see him this still. He was so warm and solid and he smelled like forest and a little bit musky. She liked it. She nestled a bit into his neck. That smelled even better. 

His skin was so soft there. She didn’t expect it would be, but there was no reason for that. It was just that she knew his hands were calloused and rough. The contrast sent a shiver down her back. Her breathing sped up. She couldn’t help it. Very gently, she pressed her lips against neck. Almost involuntarily, her hand stroked his belly. She felt the coarse hairs there at his waistband. She should stop. 

She stilled her hand and let out a frustrated breath.

“Mmh,” he said. His chest filled with air and pressed up against her breasts. She didn’t move. “Clarke,” he said, before his eyes were even open. She leaned back slightly to look at him. His lips were curved into the slightest smile. He pulled her tighter to him. 

“You don’t have to get up yet, Bellamy,” she said and the words were barely a whisper. “It’s still dark.”

His eyes opened then. He blinked and looked at her. “Clarke?”

“Mm,” she said.

He started to pull away. “I”m sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

“I’m not,” she said, and wrapped her arm around his waist, holding on. She hid her face in his neck. “I’m not sorry at all and I don’t want you to let me go.”

“What?”

“Don’t let me go, Bellamy. I like being in your arms. I like how warm you are.”

“Okay,” he said, wary. He put his arm back around her, and rolled into her so he could let his hand stroke up and down her back. “You’re okay, Clarke. I got you.”

“I am okay. Because you’re here. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Clarke,” he said. His voice carefully neutral. 

It wasn’t enough, for Clarke. “I like how you smell. I like how you feel pressed up against me.” She took a deep breath and let him feel her breasts up against his chest. “Do you like how I feel pressed up against you?”

His throat bobbed. “Clarke…”

“We’ve never been this close before, Bellamy.”

“No we haven’t.”

“Why haven’t we?”

He was barely breathing. “So many reasons.”

“Are there any reasons why we shouldn’t be this close right now?”

He let his breath out then licked his lips. She watched his tongue and when she met his eyes again, they were dark and heavily lidded. “I can’t think of any at all.”

Bellamy cupped her face in his hand and tilted her head so he could kiss her. His lips were so soft, so gentle against hers, she felt her heart break open. She threaded her fingers through his hair and opened for his tongue, kissing him back. 

He made a noise, low in his throat, and a bolt of need shot through her. She clutched at him. He rolled and pressed her into the bed. Both hands freed, she ran her hands hungrily over his arms and his back, pulling his shirt up so that she could feel his skin. His skin. Oh his skin. 

Warm and so soft. How could it be so soft? Her fingers tripped over scars. She didn’t remember him getting those. She missed so much time with him. He’d been through so much. He was always in harms way.

“Hey, hey, no,” he said. Lifting up on his elbows to look at her. He brushed her hair back from her face. “What happened?” 

She was crying. She hadn’t even realized. His voice so tender. A fresh wave of sadness washed over her. He tried to roll off of her and she wouldn’t let him.

“Don’t go Bellamy. I don’t want you to go. I want you here. I want to know that no one hurts you again.”

“What?”

“These scars. I didn’t know they were there. You deserve kindness, Bellamy. Not wounds. Not scars.”

“What?” he said again but this time he smiled. His voice filled with humor. “Clarke, in case you haven’t noticed, we’ve been at war since we got here.”

She laughed and pushed him over until she was sitting on top of him. “Well one way or another that will be over in 5 days.”

His face grew grim. “But not yet.”

“No not yet.” She let her fingers drift down to the scar on his side that she had noticed first. “I want to make you feel good, Bellamy. I want to give you kindness. I want to give you—“ love. She was about to say love. Her heart stuttered. 

“You know,” he said, his hand skating up the outside of her thigh. She swallowed. “Back in Arkadia, they’ve decided they want to live as much as they can before they all die. Drinking. Dancing. Fucking.” His eyes fluttered up to hers. Her breath faltered. “Maybe that all is a way to spend time until you die, but I don’t think it’s enough to live for.”

“To live for…” she repeated.

“Not fucking,” he said.

“No?” She hid her eyes from him.

“No.” He took her wrist and pulled her down until they were lying side by side again, faces next to each other on this feather stuffed pillow. 

“I figured out what I wanted to tell you that day on the beach.”

She should look at him but she couldn’t. 

“There was too much to say then. Too much I wanted to tell you, but I think I found the way to say it.” He brushed her hair back from her face. “Clarke, look at me.”

Clarke was afraid. She dragged her eyes open and forced herself to look at him. “What if this is it, Bellamy? What if Octavia loses and we’re shut out of the bunker. We don’t have any other options left?”

Bellamy made his sad regretful face. “Yeah. What if?”

Clarke dragged in a deep breath, unable to look away from him, now. 

“I love you.” Clarke blinked. Time stopped. “And you don’t have to feel the same or say anything, but I do. I love you. And I wanted you to know, whether we’re saved or damned. I love you.”

There were no words. Maybe there were too many words. Instead she crossed the space between them and kissed him. And it was real. And it made her blood thrum through her veins. And this was where she needed to be, right now in this moment.

“Love me,” she said. “If this is it for us or we make it through the praimfaya, will you love me now?”

“I love you always, Clarke.” She reached for the hem of his shirt and he helped her get it off and when she went to take hers off, his hands were already there. They disrobed each other. With mouths and hands and skin and passion, they loved each other. They brought each other to heights Clarke had never experienced before. They held each other, trading soft kisses and caresses as the beautiful dawn broke across the sky and spread pink light into their room. 

Life was beautiful. Life was precious. Clarke clutched at Bellamy.

“I can’t say it,” she said. “If I say it, you’ll die.” She inhaled the scent of his skin, his warm pulse matching the beat of her heart. 

“I won’t. But don’t say it. You don’t need to. Just be with me.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, his arm wrapped around her. His other hand lazily making a path up and down her stomach, making her shiver.

“I’m with you. Until the end.”

“Whenever the end is, huh?”

“Whenever it is,” she agreed. “We’ll do it together.”

His hands kept stroking her. She sucked on his pulse. She would be up for this until the very end. Then the horn sounded across Polis. It was time for the conclave. 

They both stilled against the other and took a deep breath, simultaneously. They let their breaths go.

“You ready?” Clarke asked.

“Nope,” Bellamy said. 

They laughed, and got dressed, because it was the end of the world.


End file.
